Just a dumb fuck

The lull before the storm

After we’d finished talking, Jackson sent me back to the dorm with a clear set of instructions, first and foremost amongst which was that I shouldn’t discuss the matter with anyone else until he had talked to the Commandant and various other staff members on Monday. He was clear to impress upon me that this was something that wouldn’t, couldn’t, be handled by the cadets as a standard disciplinary issue. The grown-ups would decide things. I already knew that. Until Monday I was to carry on as normal until the staff made decisions and my dad was contacted.

“Boots,” he said, as we parted, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re innocent until proven guilty. I’ll keep Jayden and anyone else who knows something reined in, but watch your back nonetheless. The staff will make sure that Coach is kept off your back, but it would be smart not to go near the gym or pool. My dad also knows good lawyers, I’ll make sure your dad gets to know about them.”

“Thanks, Jackson.”

“And one final thing, Boots.”

“Yes?”

“Stop hiding things from me. I can’t help you if you won’t trust me.”

* * *

Back at the dorm, I couldn’t help but think about what Jackson had said. “Stop hiding things.” I hadn’t lied to anyone, but I hadn’t told them all the truth either. At first that was enough, everyone just filled in their own gaps, decided what they wanted the truth to be. Now two people are questioning that. Dad never did buy everything I told him, or didn’t tell him. He knows there’s more to this. He’ll keep on digging away, slowly and persistently. Now Jackson is getting suspicious too. I only have to keep him in the dark for a few more days though, until I am out of here. That will give me time to work out what I tell dad. Well, not so much what I tell him, but how I tell him. Maybe I should have just been honest right from the beginning. But at the beginning I didn’t know everything myself. I still don’t. Things change. And now there’s the extra factor complicating stuff. Shane. How I feel about him. About guys in general rather than girls. I have to tell dad about that too.

* * *

The guys came spilling in, noisily, just after ten o’clock. They had caught the last mini-bus back, signed in at the gatehouse and then walked back up to the dorm.

“We brought you a pizza and a slice of pie,” said Shane, holding out a couple of boxes. “But unfortunately, most of the pizza got devoured by a werewolf on the way back when we weren’t looking.” Everyone looked at Travis, but no-one said anything. There was no need. The werewolf has been a convenient excuse for quite some time now: witnesses swear it lurks near Travis’ bedspace and frames him for its misdemeanours. I opened the box and smiled. There was a single slice of pizza remaining. The apple pie had fared better, it was still fully intact. I guess wolves don’t eat much fruit.

“Thanks guys, I’ll go and warm it up down in the kitchen.”

I wandered down to the kitchen and warmed up the pizza beneath the grill, and as it re-heated I cut the apple pie into six slices and plated them up. One slice for each of us, and the sixth to be put aside for Nathan when he gets back off duty at mid-night. Even the werewolf won’t touch the final slice of apple pie if it’s left on Nathan’s desk. By the time I got back to the dorm everyone had put their jackets and shoes away and were either just going to the washroom to shower or were returning in their pyjamas.

I handed out the slices of apple pie and placed Nathan’s on his desk. Travis, already showered and changed, was busy attacking a large plastic display package with his teeth to try and free the contents.

“What do you have there, Travis?”

“I’ve bought a knife for use out in the field,” he said, holding up the pack to show a large Bowie knife. The irony of it being vacuum sealed in a tough plastic display wrap that was going to need to be cut away with another knife was lost on him.

“Here, borrow this,” I said, opening my wardrobe door and fishing around in my combat jacket pocket for my yachting knife. It’s a small stainless steel knife my dad once gave me, with a serrated blade for cutting rope, a marlin spike for knots and a shackling tool. I keep it tied to my button hole with a yard or so of cord so I can’t lose it. I unfastened the cord and passed it to Travis, who examined it carefully.

“It’s a bit small, the blade’s nowhere near as big as my new Bowie knife.”

“Yes, Travis, so it folds away for storage in a pocket and, unlike your Bowie, it’s actually useable right now.”

He smiled and used my knife to cut his Bowie free from the packaging.

“Wow, that’s sharp,” he said.

“Knives are meant to be, Travis, especially ones made in Sheffield, They’re famous for them.” I smiled as he tried out his Bowie knife on the plastic packaging and, instead of slicing through it cleanly and easily like my knife had, he needed to apply a lot of force and then only managed a jagged tear with his Bowie. “It’ll get better if you sharpen it properly, Travis, factory knives are never properly sharpened. I’ll show you how when we’re out in the field.”

“Thanks, Boots.”

“The other good thing with my knife, is that it’s stainless steel so it’s non-magnetic. I can keep it in the same pocket as my compass without affecting it. You’ll have to make sure you don’t have your Bowie near your compass when we learn map reading or you’ll end up walking round in circles.”

Travis was unfolding out the shackle tool. “What’s this for, Boots?”

It’s for unlocking shackles on a boat, but you can also use it for unfastening nuts and bolts if you don’t have a spanner. A knife like that is a lot more useful in the field than a big Bowie knife. About the only thing your Bowie can do that mine can’t is scalp Injuns, which I suppose might matter in Dakota, but isn’t high priority for an army knife.”

It might sound like I am a real knife ninja but in reality I was just telling him what my cadet instructor had told me a year or two before. The first thing most cadets do is buy a big zombie apocalypse style knife when in reality a small folding pocket knife with a few tools on it is way better. It doesn’t look as cool, but the chances of needing to behead a zombie in the real world are pretty small. I double checked with my dad and then he took me out and bought me the Ibberson’s Yacht Knife, which he said was the best general-purpose knife of all. I have actually got a big ninja knife too, but its way too big to fit in a pocket and if I attach it to my belt in its scabbard it just gets in the way and ends up jabbing me in the leg on a march so it spends all its time in my cupboard back home.

By now all the guys had returned from the washroom and were changing into their pyjamas, but also getting interested in Travis’s knife and my yacht knife, so we ended up passing them round and explaining the advantages and disadvantages of each.  The Bowie knife looks way more tacticool, and I can see everybody will probably end up buying one to keep up with Travis, then wishing they had actually bought one like mine instead.

Once Will was changed he started setting up to watch a film. Well, it’s Saturday night, Kyle is away for the weekend and Nathan is on duty down at the gatehouse until midnight. The cats are away, so the mice can play. Everybody was very keen to get the system up and a film chosen. Now we have the big screen and surround sound system it really is pretty awesome. Will and Travis had already bagged the two gaming seats, so Shane dragged a bed across and put it between the seats for him, Noah and me to use.

“Go get changed, Boots,” said Shane, “then we can all watch a film and eat the apple pie. Noah can do us some of his magic popcorn too.”

I wasn’t really in the mood to watch a film but then it would perhaps take my mind off things, and I did need to get changed for bed anyway. I went and showered, and when I got back to the dorm everyone was busy comparing their purchases as they waited for me. They’ve definitely gone for the field training in a big way. Will had bought himself some binoculars with a laser rangefinder built in, which is just the sort of high-tech gadget I’d expect from him, and they weren’t cheap either. I think the artillery detachment’s cannon fire is going to get a lot better if they ever let them shoot real cannonballs instead of polystyrene. Noah had bought a notebook with waterproof paper – which is actually quite useful – and some waterproof socks, whilst Shane had bought Sealskin gloves and a small, ultra-lightweight gas-powered cooking burner. All in all, quite a useful selection of kit. I suspect the camping and hiking equipment shop in town is going to see a massive increase in trade over the next few weekends as the freshmen cadets all start their field training and quickly decide they need extra kit that the college doesn’t supply.

As I finished putting my pyjamas on, Shane jumped over to the Admin desk when his phone beeped its ‘incoming text’ sound. He glanced at it and then looked disappointed.

“Not Amelia?” asked Travis.

“No, just Kyle asking something.”

I was unsure whether to ask anything about Amelia, but couldn’t help myself. “Did you get to see Amelia again today, Shane?”

Shane glanced at me, a little sadly, then said, “No. I went to the shop but she wasn’t there, just her dad and another staff helper. I left my phone number though with her dad and he said he would pass it on. I’m hoping she’ll phone me. Maybe another day. It’s getting late now.” That’s typical of Shane, really considerate. Asking her dad to pass on his phone number rather than asking for hers. It’s not surprising everyone likes him. I’m sure her dad will pass on the number, he seemed to like Shane. Hopefully Amelia will text or phone Shane, she’s nice. 

As Will finally satisfied himself that everything was set up on the screen and computer front, Noah came back from the kitchen with a huge bowl of his popcorn. The only thing we hadn’t decided was which film we were to watch.

“Your turn,” Boots,” said Will, “You’ve got exactly thirty seconds to decide before I default to my choice, ‘District Nine’. Twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

I scanned the thumbnails of all the films in his collection that Will had popped up on to the screen. He has gazillions of them stored on his hard drive.

“Seventeen, sixteen…”

“Zulu ! Let’s go for Zulu.”

I love ‘Zulu’. I must have seen it half a dozen times. I even know the lines that aren’t in it, but which everyone says are. Like Michael Caine’s “Don’t you throw those bloody spears at me.” I can’t believe the guys here haven’t seen it. It should be mandatory viewing, even for Americans.

As the opening credits began to roll I climbed up on to the edge of the bed beside Noah and shoved him over to make more space for me. There was actually more space at the other side of the bed, where Shane had left space for me – he was sat in the middle – but I thought it better to sit next to Noah. Noah gave me a good shove back and, because I was only just on the very edge of the bed, I fell off. Everybody laughed. I stood up and was met by Shane’s smile.

“Stop dicking around Boots, there’s bags of space over on this side.”

Sheepishly, I walked round to sit next to him. As I sat down he whispered quietly, “It’s fine to sit here, Boots, it really is.” I sat down next to him, tried to ignore that scent of his. I know it’s just the orange and ginger shower gel, but it really does seem to mix with him and smells so good. Way better than it does on me.

Zulu is a pretty long film and so it was no surprise when the door opened at about the halfway stage and Nathan came in, just after midnight. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet; he’d guessed we wouldn’t be asleep in bed. It is Saturday after all. Will paused the film so we could all have a break, Noah could go pop some more corn and Nathan could get showered and changed to join us for the last part of the film. He sat down beside me, scrunching me up between him and Shane. It’s like being a slice of bread between two heating elements in a toaster. Both of them are hot even though they are straight. I mean, the girls at Oakdale were okay, but there’s something about Shane, and even coppertop Nathan.  Maybe it’s a good thing I’ll be gone from here soon. Being next to them for a whole year could be awkward.

* * *

On Sunday morning we were all back from the washroom and waiting for Nathan to return too at about nine. That’s late for breakfast as they finish serving at nine thirty and Activities begin at ten. We’re usually over there much earlier but Nathan had allowed us to stay up late on Saturday night and our first Activity was scheduled to be Car Club, and we were planning on working on his Mustang, Lemon Steroids. Nathan wanted us all to go over to breakfast together, so we presumed he had a good reason for that. He did, as he told us when he came back from checking the washrooms were tidy.

“Right guys, as you’ve all selected Car Club as your activity for this morning and so will all be together, I have another option to put to you. If you prefer, we can do some more basic field training. I’ve talked to Captain Davis and he’s agreed we can use the college Humvee. You’ll all be allowed to have a turn at driving it off-road under the supervision of a qualified instructor, and we can use it to move out into the field in two parties. It’s something you wouldn’t normally get to do until your sophomore year but we’re well ahead of the curve thanks to Boots and his lectures to you so the Commandant’s signed off on it. We’ll stay out in the field for lunch, and then this afternoon we may also have something else extra for you if things go well. Of course, it’s not compulsory so if you prefer to help me wash and polish Lemon Steroids, then play sports this afternoon instead, it’s your call.”

Nathan was almost crushed in the stampede as we all turned about from the door and rushed back to our bedspaces to change into our combat clothing. He’d not actually said to do it, but the opportunity to go to breakfast in our cabbage kit was to good to miss. Nathan smiled and dressed in his combat uniform too.

It was a Sunday, and so there was no need to do it as the rules are more relaxed at weekends, but we all formed up into a squad outside the accommodation block to march over to the dining room rather than just walk. Nathan stood alongside us, looked us over, then fell in alongside me at the rear rank to make two by three squad. He smiled at me, then gave an instruction to Travis who was in the second rank.

“Private Larson, you could do with some leadership practice. Take command and march the squad over to the dining room.”

Travis grew about six inches taller! It only took about five minutes to march to the dining room but Travis made the most of it before halting us outside the doors and falling us out to breakfast. Given the amount of times Kyle and Nathan have put him temporarily in charge of us when either they aren’t around, or even on occasions like this, I think they’re giving him that little extra push towards getting his first stripe early instead of making him wait until he’s a sophomore before he becomes a Corporal. Some guys who stand out get made up to Corporal during their third semester as a freshman. We’re only halfway through the first semester but Kyle does seem to be giving Travis that bit more authority at times. Nathan too now. Maybe they have their eye on him to help Nathan out once Kyle leaves the dorm and Nathan takes over as senior. All commanders need a good two ice cream and Travis would be a fair choice for Nat in our dorm.

At the end of breakfast Nathan sent Noah to the kitchen with a note and a few minutes later he returned with a box containing food for our lunch. Sausages, burgers, hash browns, bread rolls, fruit, all stuff we can cook or prepare easily. Way better than the bags of mush we’d get in MRE packs. Nathan then jogged us over to the garage where the Humvee is kept. I’ve never seen it out of the garage before but today it was waiting outside on the tarmac with a Staff Instructor, a Master Sergeant seconded from the Pennsylvania National Guard, leaning against the driver’s door. Nathan quickly introduced us, then told us all to put our packs in the Humvee’s load bed.

“Right, Travis, you’re riding up front with Sergeant Anders and commanding the detachment. You’ll have Cadets Brooke, Lundgren and Mason with you. You’re to take them round the camp, across the rough ground by the pond and then into the woods, via this route, to this clearing marked on the map here.” He passed Travis a map.” Until I catch up with you, you’re an honorary officer to outrank Sergeant Anders. Got that? If he gives you any hassle just order him to shut up and do as he is told.” Nat smiled at the Master Sergeant. “Can you cope with an officer armed with a map?”

Sergeant Anders smiled, happy to play along, and said,” Yes, of course, and if he gets stroppy I’ll just remind him to shut the fuck up and do some coloring.”

“Right, as there’s no space for me and Boots, we’re going for a run. We’ll cut across country on foot and try to get there before you.” Everybody started laughing: there’s no way we’ll get there ahead of them even if we could run with the speed of a thousand gazelles. “On the chance we don’t get there first, you’re to set up camp, just like we did on your first training period. Set up some shelter, then scout round the approaches to and from the camp, identify routes in and out. Don’t set up any traps. Got that, General Travis?”

“Got that, Nat.”

“Okay Travis, mount up and lead out.”

As the guys started to pile into the Humvee and strap in, Nathan grabbed me, yelled, “Come on, Boots,” and started to sprint across the car lot towards the field at the far end. I raced after him, catching him after about twenty yards and then sticking to his shoulder like glue. Nathan is pretty fit – most swimmers are, they have to be – but I reckoned I could stick with him and then outrun him in a final burst. We’re not going to get there first though, that clearing is way too far away. We kept on running at a fair pace until the Humvee pulled away and disappeared from sight around the corner of the college, then Nathan slowed down to a good jogging pace. It pays to be seen going hell for leather by the guys, but we can’t keep that pace up for three miles so now they can’t see us it makes sense to slow down to a speed we can sustain. Nat’s not stupid.

Once he’d got back enough breath, Nat turned to me as we jogged along side by side and said, “So Boots, are you liking it here?”

What sort of question is that? He knows I love it here, especially the cadet side of things. But not just that. The sports here are good, like the swimming and boxing, even the lacrosse, which I am still going to give a try. The stuff like Car Club is good too. There’s always something new or interesting to do. Even classes here are good. Everyone wants to learn, there are no slackers in the class being disruptive and holding everybody back. If you’re good, they move you up a year like they’ve done for me in maths and sciences. Work hard, but play hard. Of course I bloody like it here.

Nat didn’t need me to answer. He stopped running, causing me to stop too. Looked straight at me with his werewolf eyes. They really can be a bit unsettling. Hazel eyes and coppery hair. That pale skin. “So why was Captain Davis chewing me out last night after he spoke to you? Telling me to find out why you seem so intent on pushing your self-destruct button?”

What? I just looked at Nat, unsure of what to say. What has Jackson told him? Why has Nat just told me that? That’s not the way things are done. Sure, Jackson might have told Nat to dig, but not for Nat to just come right out and tell me about it.

Nat continued to glare at me.

“No answer, Boots? Come on then. Keep up.”

With that he set off jogging again. I ran, caught him, fell in step and jogged alongside him. What the fuck is Nat getting at? We carried on jogging – a very brisk jog – across the fields until we entered the edge of the woods. There was still about a mile of track to go through the woods until we’d be at the clearing. The Humvee would be there already, the guys already beginning work on the tasks assigned to them. Nathan stopped again.

“Boots, what is going on? You seem to like it here at Allegheny, you’re doing well at just about everything you try, yet there’s clearly something bothering you and it’s got Jackson worried enough to start taking a very personal interest. If there’s something bothering you, just talk to us about it. It’s probably nowhere near as serious as it seems to you. Me and Kyle are here to help you rather than just keep you under control. Got that?”

“Got that, Nathan.”  I know Nathan means well, he’s just like Kyle. Both of them are great dorm seniors. It’s just that this isn’t something I can talk to him about. It’s not something I want to talk about. Dad doesn’t know everything but he doesn’t want me talking about it anyway. Jackson said much the same.

I was ready when Nathan started running again, sticking on his shoulder as we headed off down the last half mile or so of track towards the clearing he’d identified to Travis. As we got closer we could hear the guys laughing and joking and so sprinted the final few hundred yards. I burst into the clearing just a few seconds ahead of Nathan, our arrival clearly sooner than they had expected. Hopefully it looked as though we had sprinted all the way.

After getting his breath back, Nathan gathered everybody round.

“Well done Travis, looks like everything went smoothly. No problems finding the place?”

Sergeant Anders laughed. “None at all, he‘s way too good with a map to be an officer. He led us right here.”

“Okay,” said Nathan, “Everybody continue with the tasks Travis has assigned to you. Travis, you show me around, brief me on what everyone is doing. Boots, you help Noah with that shelter he’s setting up. Once Travis has briefed me I’ll tell you all what happens next. Everyone clear?”

“Got that,” we all chorused.

I went to help Noah who had selected a small area just off to the side of the clearing to put up a two-man shelter. It was basically a waterproof sheet suspended from a suitable low hanging branch and secured to the ground by a bungee cord at each corner. Noah was making a pretty good job of it and so I just followed his lead and helped him gather some fallen twigs and set about camouflaging it. Ten minutes later it was actually quite difficult to spot the shelter unless you really knew where to look for it. We put our backpacks inside and checked we could still get in and out easily enough. We’d just done that when Nathan summoned us all to the centre of the clearing again.

“Okay, things are looking good. Shelters are up and nearly finished. Between now and lunchtime you’re all going to get a chance to drive the Humvee. I’ll break you down into pairs and Sergeant Anders will take one pair at a time down to the field by the river and let each half of the pair have about thirty minutes of driving instruction. Travis, you’ll go first because you already have a permit and some driving experience, Noah will go with you to observe from the back seat and then you’ll swap over so Noah can have a go. Happy with that Noah?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically.

Nathan continued. “When you two are away, Shane will take command here, reporting to me. Shane, you’ll supervise completion of the shelters, setting up of a cooking area and organising the camp approach and exit routes. Once Travis and Noah bring Sergeant Anders and the Humvee back, hopefully intact, you and Will go out in the Humvee for an hour. After that we’ll all be ready for lunch. Everyone happy?”

Everyone was more than happy. Sergeant Anders climbed in to the driving seat of the Humvee with Travis alongside him and Noah in the back and set off, slowly, down the track towards the fields. Humvees should actually be easy to drive, they’re designed for Americans and have automatic gearboxes and great suspension. Travis has probably been driving tractors since he was able to sit up straight so he should be okay with it. They’re starting in a big open field anyway so they shouldn’t crash into anything.

As the Humvee rumbled off down the track and vanished from sight, Nathan turned to Shane and said, “It’s all yours, General Lundgren. Give your orders.”

For a moment, Shane looked lost. This is the first time, to my knowledge, he’s ever been put in charge. Will and I looked at him. He looked at us. After a little more hesitation, he seemed to remember what Nathan had listed as tasks that still needed to be done and made his decision.

“Artilleryman Brooke, you’ll teach Sergeant Bauer to set up another shelter. Over there, by that bent tree. Then you’ll both clear a patch of ground and set some stones round it for our cooking spot. Got that?”

“Got that,” confirmed Will.

“Private Wright, you’ll come with me. I’ll show you the safe entry and exit routes. Then you can teach me how to set traps. Got that?”

“Got that, General.” I replied.

Shane smiled and turned to Nathan. “Was that a good set of orders, Nat?”

“Definitely, General,” said Nathan. “Clear and concise. Tasks well specified and delegated. We’d better get on with them before you throw us in jail for being slow.”

Shane beamed. “Okay, Boots, follow me. Nathan, Will, get working hard. I’ll be watching you.”

As Nathan and Will set to work, I followed Shane across the clearing and along the track, where he showed me what had been designated as the route in and out of the camp. I spent a few minutes showing him how to identify natural choke points that an enemy was likely to pass through and as such would be good places to lay trip flares, though we didn’t have any flares to set out. Shane was clearly enjoying himself, but asked “Am I doing okay, Boots? I’ve never been in charge before.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Shane wanted support and approval and, yes, he was doing okay. But only okay. He lacked confidence, and well, he is just too nice. Some people just aren’t ruthless enough to be leaders in the real world. Might not have what it takes to make hard decisions that could end up hurting some people, no matter how necessary they are. I guess in an ideal world, nice people like Shane being in charge would be perfect, but we don’t live in an ideal world. In the real world, people like Jackson are needed.

“Sure Shane, you just need practice. You’ve given some good orders, and picked the right people to do your tasks.”

When he smiled at me I just wanted to reach over and give him a big hug, to hold him close. But I can’t. He’s my commander right now for a start, so hugging him is definitely off the cards just for that, but also, well, I don’t think he would like it.

We made our way back to the clearing and Shane inspected Nathan and Will’s work, deemed it good enough and set them to work on a new task, setting up an area for us to have lunch. Not long after, the Humvee could be heard approaching and we were all amazed when it drew up to a halt and Noah stepped out of the driver’s door with a grin like a Cheshire cat. Sergeant Anders smiled and spoke to Nathan as Shane and Will jumped aboard the Humvee ready for their turn.

“Travis was good, no problems at all, but he has plenty of experience on his farm,” said Anders, “but Noah was a surprise. He said he hadn’t driven anything before, but he was brilliant at learning, just did exactly as he was told and picked it up right away. That’s why I let him drive back here along the track, I had no worries that he might crash. He just does everything he’s been taught, perfectly.”

Travis, who’d also overheard, was quick to add, “Yes, he just sat in the back for the first half hour and watched me. Hardly surprising he turned out so well.”

Nathan and Sergeant Anders exchanged looks but said nothing.

Just over an hour later the Humvee returned, though this time with Sergeant Anders at the wheel. Will and Shane jumped out, full of stories about how they had driven the Humvee round the field and even forded the river. This is going to be a talking point for weeks, especially when the guys have an audience in the dining room. Nathan has really managed to pull off a master stroke in getting us permission to do an extra day’s field training, complete with the Humvee.

Travis and Noah had been preparing lunch under the supervision of Shane and so we all sat down for a huge portion of sausages, burgers, hash browns and anything else that could be cooked over Shane’s new stove. I think there might have been a few bugs in the mix too but that’s just extra protein. Once lunch was over, and Sergeant Anders managed to eat nearly as much as Travis, Nathan told us to listen in whilst he detailed the afternoon plan.

“Will is going to be in charge for the next few hours. He’s prepared a lecture on map reading and aerial photography, showing this clearing and the surrounding area. He’ll talk us through the use of technology for what’s called ‘Intelligence preparation of the battlefield’ and how it can be used to work out what an enemy is up to and what their capabilities are. He’ll show us on his iPad what he’s been able to gain from Google maps and then we’ll walk round the area and cross reference the map to the reality on the ground. Got that?”

“Got that,” we all said in unison.

“Boots, you’ll be doing something different. Sergeant Anders will take you for a half hour’s instruction in the Humvee, then you’ll come back here, pick up everyone’s backpacks, load them in the Humvee and take them to the dorm. After that, you’re to go and meet Cole in the ante room at half two. Clear?”

“Clear, Nathan.”

* * *

I might have said that American cars with their automatic gearboxes are easy to drive. They aren’t. Well, maybe they are if you are an American and that’s all you know how to drive. Dad taught me to drive in an old Land Rover with a manual gear box. Two gear boxes actually, a high ratio box for roads and a low ratio box for in the mud. It took me a little time to get used to the automatic gearbox. I’m used to choosing a gear and using the clutch, feeling it bite and transmitting power to the wheels under my control. With the autobox, I put it in drive and then there seemed to be a lag before anything happened, and that made me press the accelerator harder and so when the power did get to the wheels we took off very snappily. The same thing happened as we drove round the field, several times I felt we needed to be in a different ear and so just kind of automatically reached for the gearstick to change it myself. Sergeant Anders just swatted my hand away from the gearstick every time and kept saying, “Let the box do the work, you just steer and brake.”

I didn’t have any problems with the actual driving, in fact Sergeant Anders said I was doing very well, especially when he let me take it through some mud and up and down some slopes – which he hadn’t let any of the others do. Dad taught me what to do on obstacles: approach slowly, ease into them and then power out. Make sure the differentials are locked too if the ground is slippery. I guess my problem is just didn’t like not being in control of things. I like selecting the gears. After my time was up, he let me drive the Humvee back to the clearing to pick up the guys’ backpacks. They were still all comparing the photos on Google earth to ground truth but I made sure they all saw me driving the Humvee back, just like Noah had been allowed to.

After I loaded all the backpacks in the Humvee I jumped into the passenger seat ready to take them back and unload them at the dorm. Sergeant Anders opened the door and hauled me out, but he was laughing.

“Wrong side, Boots. I’m going to give you some more practice on the auto box. You’re driving us back to the college. Slowly! Got that?”

Of course I bloody got that! I even managed to start off quite smoothly too. By my standards anyway, and considering this is an auto box. Going slow wasn’t a problem, the engine is a big six litre diesel lump so all I needed was to let the engine tick over as we approached the tarmac roads around college and it trickled along right on the five miles per hour speed limit. Lots of guys were going to and from their spots activities and the dining room so I got plenty of people looking at me as I rumbled by. Our dorm is definitely making an impression.

 After unloading our backpacks and carrying the up to the dorm, I went back out to the Humvee and Sergeant Anders drove it across to the garage on the Cadets’ parking lot where it is usually stored. Lots of guys from Car Club were there, which was good as they all see me getting out of it.

“Right, Boots,” said Sergeant Anders as we stood by the Humvee, “Go get yourself a bucket and sponge. You got it in this mess down in the mud, now you clean it up. I expect it to be absolutely spotless when I get back in precisely thirty minutes time.”

Have you any idea how big a Humvee is? And it has mud traps everywhere. Plus, it’s so big it’s actually quite hard to reach some bits of it, like the centre of the roof, unless you actually climb up on top of it. I didn’t get any offers of help either from any of the Car Club guys as I dashed round it with just a bucket of water and small sponge, trying to get all the mud off. You’d think a college like this would be able to run to a pressure washer for the garage, or at least a hose pipe. By the time the Humvee was clean, I was soaking wet and worn out. I managed it just in time for Sergeant Anders’ return from the ante-room where he’d been for a coffee. He was accompanied by Cole, the Cadet Officer from the water polo team who used to share a room with Jackson, and Riley, Nathan’s swim buddy.

“New training technique, Boots?” joked Riley as he looked at my wet, mud spattered combat gear, “Resistance swimming through mud?”

“You need to go and get yourself a spade from the garage,” said Cole as Sergeant Anders jumped into the Humvee and drove it off to park it inside the garage. “You can’t leave all that mud on the car lot.”

He was right. There were now big clods of earth and lumps of mud where the Humvee had just been. All in a big pool of water.

“Get a move on, Boots, you don’t have all day. Just ten minutes before we have your next tasking.”

I managed to find a spade in the garage and spent the next few minutes frantically scooping up the mud and transporting it to the flower beds alongside the car lot as Cole and Riley sat drinking their coffees and offering plenty of encouragement. The guys from Car Club were enjoying seeing me getting run ragged.

The moment I had cleaned the last of the mud from the car lot and Riley, in his best Corporal’s voice, said, “I suppose that will be adequate,” the two of them told me to follow them over to the stores building round the other side of the car lot. At one end of the stores building is a door I hadn’t really paid much attention to. It’s solid steel, and has two key holes. Cole produced one key and Riley a second, both of which had to be inserted and turned together before the door would open. The moment the door was opened an alarm countdown began to beep and Cole and Riley were quick to step inside. They each went to a separate key pad and typed in some digits, cancelling the alarm countdown. I followed them inside. It was an armoury.

Along one wall was a rack containing about thirty or so modern AR type rifles, and on a second wall was another rack that held loads of old-fashioned rifles, Garands I think they are called. Enough for every cadet to have one. I’ve seen them being carried on some of the photos of parades in the main corridor of the administrative building. Over in a corner was the Artillery Detachment’s cannon. As Cole was busy writing something down in a big log book he took from a drawer in a desk to one side of the room, the storeman arrived with yet another set of keys. He unlocked the security bar on the AR rifle rack and removed one of them, checking it was unloaded before passing it to Cole. Cole also checked it was unloaded and then entered the serial number of the rifle in the log book. All three of them signed the book.

The storeman disappeared into another part of the armoury and returned with two ammunition boxes, both of them sealed with a wire and lead tag. Cole checked the seals and signed the book before walking over to me.

“Boots, the first thing you ever do before taking a gun is check that it is unloaded. Like this.”

He pressed a catch to remove the magazine, showed me the magazine was empty, then drew back the bolt and locked it open.

“Look inside the chamber, Boots, make absolutely sure there is nothing in there.”

I looked inside, then because it was dim in the armoury, slipped my little finger into the breech to feel around for anything that shouldn’t be there. Like a cartridge. It was empty. Dad makes me do that when he takes me shooting. This isn’t the first time I’ve held a rifle or a shotgun. Not one of these, obviously, but dad has a target rifle and a shotgun at home, and in cadets we also have some single shot target rifles.

“Weapon clear, Sir.” Cole and the storeman smiled at each other, guessed I had handled a rifle before.

“Sling it, Boots. Put the magazine in your pocket.”

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and put the magazine in a pocket, then checked it was buttoned up.

“Now grab the two ammunition boxes, Boots, and follow us.”

I picked up the ammunition boxes and followed Cole and Riley outside. The storeman came to the door with us and began to re-set the alarm and lock up. “I’ll be here again from five for you to return the rifle,” he said to Cole. “Don’t be late.”

I was right in guessing that we would be heading to the shooting range at the far end of the sports field. Cole and Riley walked ahead, just walking as they were in smarts rather than uniform, whilst I did my best to march behind them. It’s not easy to march when you have two ammunition boxes to carry. They are heavy because, well, they’re full of lead aren’t they? Just try swinging you arms smartly when you’re carrying some lead weights. It was worth it though because there were loads of guys doing sports on the fields as we went by them – the football teams for a start – and they all saw me with the rifle and some ammunition boxes.

When we arrived at the shooting range, which is only a fifteen-minute walk from the main college buildings but seems much further when you’re carrying two boxes of lead, we found that Sergeant Anders, Nathan and the rest of the guys were already there waiting for us. Sergeant Anders is also a Small Arms Instructor, I’d spotted the badge on his sleeve earlier.

“Pretty useful pack horse you guys have there,” said Anders to Cole and Riley. “I hear he does a good line in cleaning up car lots too.”

I put the two ammunition boxes on the ground near the firing point and unslung the rifle, showed it ‘clear’ to Sergeant Anders and passed it to him. He checked it too, then slung it on his shoulder.

“Now, before we begin the lesson,” he said, “Does everyone have their ear defenders?”

We all looked at each other. We don’t. They are in our back packs, In the top left external pocket, to be precise. I know that, because that is where I told everyone to store them. And I’ve just taken all the back packs to the dorm.

“They’re back in the dorm, Sergeant,” said Travis. “Boots took them there.”

Sergeant Anders turned to Noah. “Artilleryman Mason, if you were in charge right now, what would you do?”

Noah looked around at us all, then spoke, surprisingly loudly and authoritatively. “Run, Private Wright. Go bring our ear defenders. NOW!”

He bloody means it! Noah’s just given me an order. Not said what he would do, just gone ahead and done it. Ordered me to go and bring everyone’s ear defenders. Everyone is looking at me. Nathan was trying hard not to laugh as he said, “That was definitely an order Boots. Clear, precise and issued with authority. Best jump to it, General Noah is getting impatient already.”

It took me nearly twenty minutes to run all the way back to the dorm, gather together everybody’s ear defenders, and then hurtle back to the range. When I got there, everyone was already wearing ear defenders. Riley was smirking.

“There are always plenty of spare ear defenders kept in the range office,” he said, pointing to the small brick building that controls access in to and out of the range, “but Noah didn’t know that and after he gave such a perfect order it would have been a shame to countermand it.”

I joined in the laughing with everyone else. I could see the joke. I might be missing my boxing and swimming training today, but washing ten acres of Humvee, shovelling up mud, carrying ammunition and the running backwards and forwards to the dorm like a blue arsed fly is going to keep me fit enough.

For the next hour, Sergeant Anders taught us all about gun safety and how to make sure we never shot anyone accidentally. Real life isn’t like Call of Duty, you can’t just re-set and get a new life. After that, we were each allowed to do some target shooting, one at a time and under close supervision, at targets twenty-five, fifty and then one hundred yards away. Me and Travis got equal first place, mainly because I have done target shooting back home with the cadets, and he has a rifle of his own back in Dakota. These AR platform rifles are way better than the single shot target rifles I’m used to.

Nathan really is managing to pull out all the stops to get us advanced on our military training, most of the stuff we have done today is usually not on the syllabus until we’re sophomores. I’ve no idea how he managed to persuade Cole to give up his Sunday afternoon to act as one of the two ‘responsible adults’ we need before we can have rifles, and as for getting Sergeant Anders as our instructor and second adult, and the Humvee, well, that’s equally amazing. Okay, so I know it looks good on him if our dorm win the fieldcraft competition but we are going to be judged on these skills. Maybe he’s just being smart and getting the guys really enthusiastic so in the next few weeks when we are doing more basic things they are still interested because they have already had a taster of where it is leading.

After shooting – and guess who got the job of picking up all the empty brass cases from the firing point and carrying the unused ammunition and rifle back to the armoury with Cole and Riley – we were stood down from duty at four thirty and sent for tea. We all went there still in our combat uniforms of course rather than changing into smarts, and we had plenty of bragging rights after the Humvee driving training and shooting. From the stories going round, we had just triumphed at the Alamo, Rorke’s Drift and Iwo Jima all in a single day.

As the guys drank their coffee and entertained all their friends from other dorms, I slipped outside onto the terrace and sat by myself for a while with a cup of tea. Today has been a really fantastic day. This is what schools should be like. I should be staying here for a full year, but tomorrow I’m going to find out what’s happening to me. The Commandant will be speaking to my dad, and then I’ll have to face him too. Why have I been such an idiot and ruined it all?